


Love Like You

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Adopted Peter Parker, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Baby Peter Parker, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), I mean at this point it’s canon, Implied Science Bros, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, No Smut?, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Tony Stark has PTSD, Uh I think kissing is gonna get super passionate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The one where Steve catches Tony in Home Depot with his shy baby and he tries to make everything better.Spoiler: He doesn’t.OrSteve Rogers abandons his family in Civil War to protect a childhood friend and Tony winds up with PTSD and Anxiety and Peter’s cute.





	Love Like You

“Sir, it’s time for you to wake.” 

JARVIS spoke over the loudspeaker, earning a disgruntled groan from Tony, whom rolled to his side and covered his head as a burst of air from the vents was directed to him. Reminding himself to disconnect JARVIS from the access of those, he slowly sat up, yawning and shuffling to the bathroom.

“Master Stark, there’s a bit of an issu—“ JARVIS began, only to be cut off by Tony. 

“The only issue is that I haven’t had my morning coffee, and you’re talking to me. Tell Dum-E to make me a cup before I throw him with the scraps.” He muttered, and opened the door to his master bathroom, taking care of his business and brushing his teeth and hair. He exited the restroom, taking the stairs down to the kitchen, cracking his back, and accepting a warm cup of coffee from his robotic assistant. 

“As I was saying— Your conference for today has been rescheduled to Friday, and the Board wants you there in person. Looks like you’ll be there for a few days as well, meeting other party members.” JARVIS pulled up a screen, and Tony waved it from his vision. “You’re serious? The hell do they want that’s so important that they can’t hologram me.” He took a sip of his coffee, spitting it back in his cup. “Right. This coffee is absolute garbage. Dum-E, I’m scrapping you.” The robot whirred in complaint, shaking as it grabbed the cup of distasteful coffee, pouring it out and making a new one. It made a pitiful cry as it’s joints argued against it, but nonetheless continued on.

Accepting a second cup with slight hesitancy, Tony took a sip and raised it to Dum-E, who whirred and raised his single arm happily. The old robot scooted away, off to clean up after Tony in his lab. “Master Stark, I suggest you look at this.” JARVIS pulled another hologram to Tony’s line of vision, the creator giving a sigh as he read over the files. He furrowed his eyebrows together, tilting his head a bit. “They want my element? What’re they planning to do with it?” Tony quizzed, taking a small sip from his coffee. 

Exhaling deeply, he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearing his throat and closing out the holograms.

“What do they want with it?”

“It’s classified. They want to discuss it in person.”

“Well then hack their damn files and tell me what’s in it.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“It’s encrypted with a technology I’m not familiar with.”

Groaning, Tony set his coffee out on the table and turned his attention to the toaster, slipping three pieces of bread into it. “Great. I’ve got them down my neck about something we don’t even know about. How am I supposed to prepare myself?” Receiving no answer from JARVIS, he rubbed at his temples, exiting the kitchen and hurrying up the steps to the bedroom floor. He needed to get Peter up for the day— if he wasn’t already. 

Opening the door slowly, a soft grin blessed Tony’s lips as he melted against the sound of soft ‘Mm, Mm’’s coming from the toddler in his crib. Slowly entering the room, Tony slunk his arms over the railing of the crib, placing his hand inside and patting the child’s butt gently to coax him awake. The child, Peter, whined— fussing a bit in his crib to not wake just yet. 

“C’mon baby— up!” 

Tony cooed, continuing to pat Peter’s rump to wake him up further. He grunted, and began to squirm, a soft yawn escaping his mouth as Tony picked him up. “Hi bugaboo. Did you sleep nice?” He cooed, placing the boy on his plastic changing station, pressing his lips against the child’s cheek and giving him a couple of kisses. Peter squealed, pushing Tony away with his tiny hands and kicking his legs. Gently grabbing Peter’s ankles with his left hand, Tony proceeded to unbutton his onesie with his right, pulling it up and undoing his diaper. Doing a quick wipe down of his nappy area, Tony tossed the soaked pamper in the trash, replacing it with a fresh one and taping the sides. 

“All done!” Tony gasped excitedly, earning a sweet giggle from Peter. Buttoning back the onesie, Tony quickly fixed Peter’s yellow socks, picking him up again and placing him at his hip. “Okay, we’re gonna brush your teeth, and get you some nummies.” Tony rounded the corner to his room, heading into the bathroom and placing Peter on the sink counter. Running the water, he placed a dry rag stained with toothpaste under Peter’s chin, making an engine sound and coaxing a paste covered toothbrush into Peter’s mouth. He fussed for a bit, but allowed Tony to brush the few teeth he had.

“Okay, buga. Spit.” Tony grabbed the toddler by his waist, hoisting him over the sink and allowing him to spit in, using his hand to wash his face and rinse his mouth. “Good boy!” Tony gasped kissing his shoulder and watching the boy hiss out a cackle. “You wanna walk or do you want daddy to carry you?” Tony quizzed, raising an eyebrow as he watched Peter twist his torso to look at him, placing a hand on his lips and looking up to the ceiling, humming softly. Something that Peter must’ve picked up from Tony. The child then gave a wide smile, kicking his legs and pointing to them. “Wak!” He smiled, and the corners of Tony’s eyes crinkled.

“Okay, baby.” 

Placing Peter down, Tony held his hand as they tiptoed down the step one foot at a time, Peter successfully reaching the end, big brown eyes looking up to Tony for acceptance that he did well. Tony smiled, clapping his hands and cheering, earning a squeal from Peter. 

With this kid, Tony’s worries could magically wash away. Something that would take days of staying up in his lab, could be resolved in minutes of being with his adoptive son. He was his world. His light at the end of a dark tunnel. Ushering Peter to his highchair, Tony set the bread to heat up a bit longer; getting to work on making a bottle of milk for Peter. The boy cooed happily in his chair, babbling and smacking at things that Tony couldn’t see. Once Tony finished the bottle, he placed it on the dashboard of Peter’s chair, the boy eagerly grabbing it and placing it in his mouth, his eyes drooping down as he scratched the side of his head. A gentle smile formed on Tony’s features as he took the butter from the fridge, stopping the toaster and blowing on the toast to cool it, lathering on butter and placing it on the table before Peter, alongside a peeled banana. 

As Peter ate, he buttered his own toast, eating at the bread nervously, sipping coffee that seemed quite bland to him now. No, Tony was too worried to eat. He had a trip to go on for the weekend, and he wasn’t going to let a toddler stay alone. Peter was a kid, and kids needed things. Constantly.

So who could watch the kid? 

Bruce was sensitive when it came to kids. He was also fairly shy, only open for new things if Tony was with him. He wondered if Bruce even remembered Peter’s name. Clint had his own monsters to take care of. Assuming he went back to them. Natasha? Maybe. Maybe she’d work. But she was off hiding from the world with Falcon and...He’d consider Clint. Steve—? No. Steve wasn’t allowed to see Peter. He supposed Natasha would be his best bet.

He exhaled.

“JARVIS, contact Natasha for me. Give her a message asking if she’ll be free this weekend.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Promise her a comfortable environment suited to all her needs. Something extravagant.” 

Tony poured out his coffee and finished his food, washing the dishes and raising an eyebrow at Dummy, who whistled sadly as he entered the kitchen, his arm falling off and hitting the ground with a loud clang. 

“Oh, dude. Really? I just fixed you.” Tony grumbled, and hurried to the robot, sticking the arm back. It fell off again, and Tony shook his head. “Guess I’m going to the hardware shop. I don’t have the bolts you need.” Dummy whirred, and Tony scoffed. Turning his attention to Peter, the child hummed a ‘Dada’ and stuck his hand in his mouth, banging his arm on his tray. 

“All finished? That was fast.” 

Most of the food landed on the floor, and on Peter’s bare arms and legs. He’d have to give him a bath. Unhooking the tray and dumping out the mashed food and milk, Tony quickly washed it and set it to dry, unbuckling Peter and letting him rest on his hip. 

Maybe he’d take a bath with him. 

~*~

“Daddy’s going to get dressed, so play with Smiley, okay?” 

Tony placed a clean and dressed Peter in his playpen, earning a few gasps and disheartening sobs from the child. “No!” He latched onto Tony’s finger, causing the older man to sigh softly, and gently pet the child’s hair. Whimpering, Peter reluctantly let go of Tony, crawling over to his stuffed rabbit and pressing her close to his chest. Smiling, Tony nodded and exited the play room, hurrying to his own room to throw on something simple. A rather nerdy gimmick shirt, some jeans, and sneakers that told other people how just how rich he was.

“Er— Sir— wouldn’t it be more logical if I ordered the tools for you? As per usual?” JARVIS spoke, and Tony shook his head as he grabbed a set of car keys. “Shouldn’t you be trying to reach Natasha? Stop slacking off.” JARVIS scoffed, and Tony gave a smirk of satisfaction.

Hurrying back into Peter’s play room, Tony grabbed a soft yellow and white hip carrier from a hook, slipping it under his arm and blowing a kiss to a fussy Peter, who made grabbing motions to Tony. He figured that they wouldn’t be out for long, so he didn’t need anything for Peter. Though just to be safe, he grabbed one of Peter’s favorite teething rings, and wiggled it into the toddler’s mouth. Tony was fairly good at keeping up with Peter’s supplies, so they didn’t need anything from the store. 

“Alright buga, up you go.” 

Tony hummed, placing Peter on his hip and carefully walking down the steps for the third time that day, taking the elevator to the garage and inhaling the crisp air. He’d have to take Peter on a trip out of the city someday. Unlocking his car and placing Peter in his car seat, Tony hurried to the driver’s side and started the engine, taking a quick trip to a nice Home Depot. 

After arriving, Tony slid Peter out of his seat and into his carrier, adjusting him to sit comfortably on his hip as he chewed on his ring and kicked his feet happily. Ensuring he locked his car, Tony set for the store, slipping some shades on himself and the baby. He hadn’t been out of the house since— the fight. And with Pepper leaving him a while back, Tony got disgustingly low. So, after reconciling with Bruce and Thor, he decided he needed another member of the family. Something to keep his mind and hands busy. Something to ground him in the same way Steve did. 

He adopted Peter. 

Yes, he knows how strange it sounds. Tony Stark, the ultimate playboy rich guy, with a child? No, that wasn’t right. But that was his coverup. That’s what he’d tell Peter when he got older. And not the fact that he and Tony were abandoned by Steve so he could be with his friend. Yeah, his friend who was much more important than his fiancé and son. Tony grimaced at the thought. 

Inhaling sharply as he entered the store, Tony kept a straight face as he was immediately bombarded by kids with phones, recording him and begging for answers as to where he’s been. And who the hell was that kid on his back. Peter didn’t seem to mind, and instead was thrown into a fit of laughter at the bright lights and sudden attention. These people were silly! Grabbing a cart, Tony rounded a corner, humming to himself as he searched for the tools he needed. Nuts? Maybe. He’d need some tiny screwdrivers too.

~*~

“I don’t get why Sam needs tools from this particular Home Depot in this particular part of the world. It feels like something spectacular is going to happen, and I’m not ready for it.” Steve threw his arms up, earning stares from other people. He flustered, and bowed his head. 

“Because, they have the cheapest prices. And we were passing by New York. I figured, why not stop at the Depot I went to everyday?” Sam spoke from next to Natasha, who audibly rolled her eyes. 

“Right. And you couldn’t do it because—?” 

“I have a broken leg, and that’s food for the paparazzi. ‘Sam Wilson breaks leg doing the ‘Twerk’.” He headlined, earning a chuckle from Natasha, and a strained laugh from Steve. 

“Oh yeah? Like I’m not food for the paparazzi either. Steve Rogers, dead or lumberjack?”

“You chose that lifestyle.”

“And you chose to break your leg.”

“Remember my list, Steven. Or I’m punching you in your perfect white teeth.”

The line clicked, and Steve shook his head. How nice. Sighing, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, grabbing his cart and wheeling it down the aisle. Sam needed something to fix his wings. He said something about needing some type of glass? They had a pretty fierce battle not too long ago, and his armor was totaled. Reason six why Steve’s shield was just so much better. 

Steve had zoned out when he’d heard someone scream out, his fighter instincts rumbling in his stomach as he sped down the aisle, taking a sharp breath to ask the person if they were okay, only to hear another scream and see a small girl bounce up and down. Oh, no, they were fangirls. Someone important had to be here. Frowning and shuffling to an older woman, he tapped her shoulder to whisper to her. “Hey, what’s all the noise about?” He muttered, earning an appalled look from the woman. “It’s Tony Stark! And he’s got some sorta kid with him!” She snickered, chewing horse like on a wad of gum. 

His heart dropped, and he stuck his hands into his pockets. Tony was here. Tony was here. And a kid? He hoped to god she didn’t mean—

He had to help. 

Diving into the crowd, he caught a quick glimpse of Tony shielding his eyes from the bright glare of phone flashes, the toddler on his back seeming to no longer enjoy the attention he was given. Instead, he whimpered and buried his face into Tony’s chest, his tiny hand balled up into a fist around the man’s shirt. 

“Excuse me. I came to shop, and you’re not letting me shop.”

“How old is he?”

“What’s his name?”

“Who’s the mother?”

“He doesn’t look like you!”

Tony took a step back, about ready to leave the store when a taller figure wrapped his arm around his waist, ushering him through the crowd with a practiced ease. They hurried to the back of the store, where the paparazzi of teenagers groaned and turned on their heels to theorize amongst themselves. Tony exhaled deeply once they were safe, taking the glasses off of Peter’s face and giving it to the child to fumble with. He babbled happily. 

Tony chuckled, dark chocolate eyes looking from his son, then to the ground. “Hey, thanks. I owe you one…” He trailed off as his eyes looked to the man, his orbs narrowing as his throat dried. It was Steve. Steve rescued him from paparazzi. Just like how he rescued Tony from Bucky by impaling him with his own father’s shield. Tony’s face warped into something of anger, and then sadness, and frustration? Steve wondered how someone could make so many expressions at once. Maybe he did the same thing. 

“Tony,” 

Steve began, his voice lowering to a whisper. He wondered how the man could recognize him. Steve looked nothing like he did before. He had a thick lumberjack beard, and his hair wasn’t as bright and vibrant as before. It was longer, and looked a shade or two darker. If it hadn’t been for those hesitant baby blues, Tony doubted he would have recognized him. 

“I thought you left. Off to save the world with your other team.” Tony subconsciously clutched Peter closer to him, earning a small hic from the boy in response. “I was but,” He chuckled. “Sam needed some supplies. We were just passing New York to go upstate.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes traveling down Tony to the bundle of gibberish on his hip. “Is this who I think it is?” He smiled, that damn loving smile that Tony forgot he missed. Peter cocked his head to the side, noticing that Steve had his attention on him. He quickly covered his face with his tiny hands, shuddering slightly. Steve forgot how shy he could be. Reaching out a hand to touch him, Tony immediately jerked back. “No. Don’t touch him.” He grumbled, squinting as he looked the traitor up and down. 

“Did Natasha get my call?”

“You mean Jarvis’? Yeah.”

“Is she free?”

“No, not really.”

Tony cursed under his breath, grunting and turning on his heel to leave. A warm hand was pressed down onto his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to glare at it. 

“I want to talk.”

“I think you’ve done enough talking.”

“Tony please.”

“Steve.”

“We’ve been driving for a long time. Could we at least use your place as a pit stop? If not for me, then for Natasha and Sam?” Steve shamelessly begged, watching as Peter peeked from his hiding spot to look up at Tony. Though he wondered if the toddler knew what was going on, he thanked those puppy eyes for forcing Tony to succumb to defeat. He gave a slow nod, and Steve smiled, breaking away from Tony to buy the things they needed. 

~*~

After splitting up to buy what they needed and come in two separate cars to Stark Tower, Tony allowed them access to the highest floor, watching with slight amusement as they melted into his couches. He set Peter on the ground, the boy immediately kicking off his shoes and throwing the bandana formerly around his neck to the side. He happily squealed, standing on his tiptoes and running into an empty sofa. It was numerous to say the least, watching Peter poke out his stomach as he waddled after his stray toys. Off to play, Tony smiled. 

The first one to speak was surprisingly Natasha.

“Were you ever going to tell anyone that you had a, y’know.” She trailed off, and Tony shrugged, pouring himself a drink. “I told Bruce and Thor. I couldn’t tell you guys since, y’know, you were in jail.” He took a sip, his eyes flickering cautiously to Peter who waddled from the sofa and over to his vacuum cleaner. The toy obnoxiously rattled as he pushed it. 

“Yeah. Who’s fault was that?” Sam sneered, groaning as Peter accidentally skidded across his poorly bandaged leg. 

“Oh, so now we’re playing the blame game? Who’s fault was it to run off after his childhood friend, rather than turning him in to be properly taken care of?” Tony took another sip, and Steve abruptly stood. 

“You leave Bucky out of this.”

“Like you left me and Peter? Oh yeah, real funny.”

“Tony. You know that I didn’t mean to—“ 

“To hurt us? Yeah, well you did. I’m sure you didn’t care though.”

“Now that’s just not true.”

“You left us. You left me. You left your son. For a friend.”

“You wanted us arrested!”

“It was for the greater good.”

“Yeah?”

“I could’ve died, Rogers. You impaled me.” Tony pointed to where his arc reactor was. “My son would have woken up with one of his father’s out of his life, and the other dead. Tell me, how old is he?”

Steve’s mouth dried, and he looked at the boy. “Two.”

Tony slammed his glass down, the cup cracking upon the impact. “He’s fifteen months, Rogers!” He raised his voice, bring up a fist and clenching it to remind him to stay calm. “Fifteen.” 

Peter stopped playing, looking up pitifully at Tony. “Daddy?” He called out, tears whelming in his eyes from the sudden shouting. “Shh, baby. Daddy’s okay.” Tony hummed, shooting the child an ironic warm smile. Peter nodded, and waddled to his toy crate, pulling out a perfectly kept notebook, as well as a stray crayon. He set to work on a drawing that he’d forget to give Tony later. 

Steve sat down, furrowing his eyebrows together. Peter was barely one. Had five months really flown past? He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing and looking over to Tony. Sam placed a hand on Steve’s back, as a, ‘It's not your fault’ way. He was gifted with a gentle smile. 

~*~

The rest of the day went surprisingly smooth. Peter slowly grew around to Tony’s slightly unwelcome houseguests, and Tony felt himself loosening too. They’d just finished some italian takeout, and Peter slept peacefully in Tony’s arms. He applauded himself quietly for being able to bathe him before he fell asleep. At the moment, they were gathered around the den, watching a movie on Tony’s high tech T.V. Natasha had a cup of tea in her hand, her short hair tied into a wet bun. Steve, Natasha, and Sam were decked in some sort of mitch matched outfit from Tony’s closet, not having their appropriate sizes was difficult enough, and the clothes they did have was in the wash. 

“I’m gonna go and put Peter to bed.” Tony stood, clutching the child to his chest as he thought quietly to himself. Things were so- weird. He contemplated laying down with Peter.

“Wait, Tony. Let me come too. I—“ Steve paused, the whites of his eyes glistening in the blues of the T.V light. Tony wasn’t sure if he was capable of having a normal conversation, but he gave a slow nod and gestured Steve to follow him. 

They arrived to Tony’s floor shortly, taking only a short elevator ride up. Tony’s body was tired. He’d been so tense for so long, that things hadn’t started hitting him until now. He was confused— and worried. But he was glad Steve was back. That much he did know. At least, he hoped that’s what it was. 

After a practiced walk to Peter’s room, Tony allowed himself to give a proud scoff at Steve’s amazement of the upgrade the room was given. Tony laid Peter in the crib, kissing his head and tucking him underneath a light blanket. Leaving the door open, Tony sighed and turned on his heels back to the elevator.

“Is there someplace you want to go?” Steve muttered, and Tony nodded his head. 

They’d gone back to the highest floor, where they could overlook the city. 

Tony stood near the windows, crossing his arms and watching the streets below. Steve sighed, standing next to him and doing the same. 

“Listen, Tony.” He began, his eyes flickering with an emotion that Tony couldn’t figure out.  
“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered, his knuckles turning white. 

“I ran, because I was confused. You guys have no idea how much it meant to me for me to see Bucky again. They told me he was dead. He wasn’t. He was right there, alive and well. I was scared for him. Because if he was captured by you guys, he’d definitely be gone for good.” Steve’s voice cracked, and Tony snapped his head up to look at him. 

“Steve,” Tony began, cracking his fingers nervously. “I’m not— mad or anything.”

“You aren’t?”

“No. I just have a lot going on. I never really got over the battle New York, and Peter’s been stressing me the fuck out with his teething, and my parents weren’t killed by accident.” He let out a disbelieving cough, and turned his back to the scenery. His eyes were glossed over, and he looked up to the ceiling, his brows knitting together. “And now I’m going to be leaving Peter behind for a few days, so I have to find someone to watch him—“ Tony covered his face with his hand, exhaling loudly. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years. “I wasn’t meant to be a father, Steve.” 

“Hey, Tony.” Steve sighed, moving to pull the shorter figure close to him. He prayed Tony wouldn’t scream. “We’re here now. I’m here now. If this wasn’t meant to be then—“ He uncovered his face. His eyes moved a step ahead from glossy, and were now red and puffing. “I would’ve walked right by you in that Home Depot.” He whispered, the sudden need to keep his voice low overwhelming for one odd reason. This conversation was only meant for Tony and he. Steve waited so long for this moment, to hold Tony again and apologize for years. His blood throbbed in his ears, and he could feel the blush in his nose spreading to his cheeks like wildfire. He ducked his head down slowly, to press his lips against the other’s, when a soft hand interrupted.

“Let’s take things slow, Steve.”

And for the first time in months, Tony found himself chuckling alongside Steve’s sickeningly sweet laugh.

~*~

Tony thought quietly to himself as he battered a bowl of eggs the next morning. Peter wasn’t up yet, he had the baby monitor/holographic imagery next to him clarify. Dum-E still whirred quietly from the lab with U, who spoke to him in some evil cryptic language to calm him down. Unfortunately, Tony set to work on making his own coffee. He was halfway through with the pancakes when he saw Peter beginning to fuss in his crib, the boy climbing onto his knees and whipping his head around to look for Tony. His eyes watered, and he looked just about ready to cry when the door opened, and Tony quickly grabbed the screen. Appearing from the doorframe was Steve, and Tony would be lying if he didn’t say that he was relieved. 

“Hey, buddy.” Steve hummed, reaching over the side of the crib to pull out Peter, who whipped his head around to see if maybe Tony was hiding. He began to pull at Steve’s clothes, banging his tiny fists on his shoulder as he cried out for Tony. “Dada! Mm’ Daddy!” He sniffed, his crying becoming a bit slurred as Steve bounced him up and down to calm him, doing a few laps around the room. Peter eventually calmed, finding comfort in grabbing onto Steve’s surprisingly long hair. He mumbled, and stuck his fist into his mouth, cooing softly as Steve laid him on the changing station, swapping out Peter’s soiled diaper for a new one with an ease he never forgot. Tony smiled.

Snapping back Peter’s onesie and grabbing the child to head downstairs, Peter began to fuss and he slapped his hands against Steve’s shoulder again. “No!” He cried, making grabby hands to what seemed to be the bathroom. “What’re you going in there for?” Steve quizzed, his eyes widening a bit when Peter opened his mouth, revealing half a jaw of teeth. Wow, how much of this kid did he miss?

Nodding his head and taking him to the bathroom, Steve allowed Peter to step up on a stool, watching as the toddler grabbed a red and blue toothbrush, helping him put some toothpaste on the brush and shakingly brush his teeth. He spat in the sink, looking up to Steve for applause but only receiving a curious look. Peter bowed his head, climbing off of the stool and grabbing Steve’s leg, about ready to cry. Though Steve didn’t notice, he picked the toddler up again and bounded down the steps, stepping over a still sleeping Natasha and Sam. 

Tony closed out the hologram, replacing it with a news report that he wasn’t interested in. Flipping the pancakes onto a plate, he turned his attention to the incoming Steve and Peter. “Daddy!” Peter squealed, wiggling out of Steve’s arms and waddling as fast as he could to a kneeling Tony, who picked him up with an eloquent spin. “Hi baby! You’re up super early!” Tony grinned, kissing Peter’s lips and watching the toddler kick his legs in excitement. “Papa!” He giggled pointing to a pouting Steve, never minding the sudden lock jawed expression on Tony’s face. “You remember your Papa?” Tony breathed, placing Peter on the counter as he set plates. Peter nodded. Something must’ve clicked in Peter. He was shy, afraid to go near Steve yesterday, and now he knew Steve was his second father? Tony wondered if the child was a lot smarter than he appeared to be. “Why don’t you get your Papa to wake up Natasha and Sam?” Tony’s face warped back into a smile, and Peter nodded, kicking his legs and making grabby hands to Tony. “Down, Daddy!” He rushed Tony, standing on his tippy toes and running over to Steve, grabbing his hand and leading him to the separate air beds Natasha and Sam lie on. 

Tony sighed, setting the kitchen table and ripping up the pancakes into smaller pieces for Peter’s tray. He added a special batch of eggs for Peter on his tray, ripping open an orange and decorating it into smiles. Peter came back with a barely functioning Natasha and Sam in tow, and they all ate together in silence. 

Maybe Tony could get used to this.


End file.
